Cunning Triumphs
by Black Dracus
Summary: Oneshot. A conversation between Edea and a young Quistis.


A.N. Seems I am on a FFVIII kick lately. This, another one shot, was inspired by the quote that starts it off. Not that I think Edea owns a copy of _The Joy of Cooking_, but you get the idea. The last little clip is on the Ragnarok as the gang goes to fight Ultemecia. I don't own Squaresoft or the characters I am using.

"_Nothing gives a household a greater sense of stability and common comfort than the aroma of cooling bread. Begin, if you like, with a loaf of whole wheat, which requires neither sifting nor kneading, and go on from there to more cunning triumphs."_

_-The Joy of Cooking_

Edea Kramer was making bread. Well, breads. Plural. It seemed every child wanted their own type of bread that they liked best. For Quisty, a nutty wholesome wheat; Zell, a thick yeasty white he cut into huge slabs and ate slathered with butter. Seifer liked the dry rye toast smeared with jam; peach, strawberry, plum. Ellone preferred the yellow mealy potato bread—Squall hated it, but ate it because Ellone did. Selphie wanted cinnamon swirl bread, cinnamon raisin bread, orange cranberry bread, bread that was not bread but a type of cake.

Usually baking day (for on this day, Edea made not only bread but cookies and pies and rolls) was a day of tension around the orphanage, of Selphie and Irvine peeking around the doorjamb at her to see whether their favorite goodies were on the table yet, a day when even the eternal hostility between Squall and Seifer was silenced for a few hours so that Edea wouldn't be disturbed.

Sometimes one of the children would ask to help her, usually Quistis or Zell. Quistis was a diligent, serious helper; Zell sat at the table babbling and licking spatulas when she offered them. She loved them both. However, today Ellone had taken them all to the seaside, and so Edea was left alone in the small stone house. Cid, also, was gone, at one of the meetings that seemed to have grown in number since the plans for Garden had begun in earnest. There were three sites selected now; Balamb, Galbadia, and Trabia. Cid was now interviewing contractors, seeking funds, raising interest. They hoped to have the Gardens complete in three years.

They had agreed last night that the children who hadn't been adopted by then would be the first students. Edea hesitated at the thought still, of taking her children, her unique and gorgeous babies, and training them to kill.

Quistis quietly entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. It was obvious she didn't want to talk, so Edea pretended she hadn't seen her. The rustling sound of pages turning indicated that Quistis was looking through the battered cookbook Edea usually kept on a shelf.

"What are 'cunning triumphs'?" Quistis asked after a time, making Edea smile. Quistis's curiosity was a strange thing, not raging like Selphie's but persistent.

"Hmm. Well, cunning means smart. And triumph means victory. So, together, they mean a victory that is smart?" Quistis continued, answering her own question.

"It means something that is achieved through intelligence, something that others might not be able to do. Not a victory like battle; it could be a moral victory, or something as simple as making good cookies."

"I'm going to have those! My life will be a cunning triumph." Quistis declared, her young voice full of conviction.

Edea handed Qusitis a small plate with two cookies and a glass of milk. Quistis smiled, picking one up.

"I won't tell the others." She slyly admitted. Edea laughed softly; at that moment, her beautiful, intelligent little Quisty was her favorite.

"Your life will be full of triumph too, Matron. You're wonderful." The blonde girl said, flipping a few more pages.

"You are enough triumph for me, my smart girl." Edea said, kissing her forehead before going to remove some almost-burning bread from the oven. "You are my cunning triumph."

Zell looked across the aisle of the Ragnarok at Quistis. He was surprised to see her weeping.

"What's the matter, Quistis?" he asked, laying a hand on her shoulder, his honest, brotherly face full of concern.

"Nothing. Just memories coming back." She said softly. Zell nodded, tugging her hair a little.

"Hang in there, champ." He said, smiling at her winningly. She smiled back, but the words of her Matron echoed through her mind.

"_You are my cunning triumph."_

Not Squall; not Seifer; her. Quistis Trepe.

And as the ship raced on toward some unconceivable confrontation, Quistis resolved to do that title justice.


End file.
